


Free Ride

by Kangofu_CB



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Classic Cars, Gratuitous Smut, M/M, NSFW, literally just writhing naked bodies and improvised lube, seriously just self-indulgent sexytimes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-02
Updated: 2017-07-02
Packaged: 2018-11-21 08:28:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11353680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kangofu_CB/pseuds/Kangofu_CB
Summary: "So I've come here to give you a handAnd lead you into the promised landSo, come on and take a free ride."-Edgar Winter 'Free Ride'Companion piece and gift fic for TheManwell's 'A Safe, Good Place'.  (You do not NEED to have read the fic to follow this, as it is strictly a smutfest, but it might make a little more sense if you do.)What happens after Heero gets home with the GTO?





	Free Ride

**Author's Note:**

  * For [The Manwell (Manniness)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Manniness/gifts).



Solo knew the sound of that engine.  Propelling himself off the couch, he strode, barefoot, to the front door of the small house and out onto the porch.  Sure enough, his brother’s dark blue GTO was pulling into the drive.  

 

What in the hell was he doing here at damn near midnight?

 

The thought lasted only as long as it took Heero to climb out of the driver’s side door, leaving it open and standing in the available space, elbows propped on the edge of the door and the roof.  He looked damn good doing it, too, but Solo was distracted by the dangerous turn his mind was taking.  His heart stuttered in his chest, imagining the worst, and his face probably showed it, if Heero’s increasingly concerned expression was anything to go by.

 

“I’m supposed to give you a message.”  Heero’s tone was dry, no different than it always was, and surely if something had happened…

 

“Yeah?” he croaked out, hands gripping the rails, white knuckled.

 

Heero sighed, and the sound was resigned and annoyed all at once.  “You’re a jucking ferk.”  The tone, so blase, made the familiar insult almost impossible to recognize.  When it registered Solo was blindingly, instantly Pissed Off.

 

“You fuckin’ asshole!” he hollered, “Where’s my brother?  If you shot him, I’m gonna kill you! No one gets to shoot him but me!”

 

Thank god they didn’t have any close neighbors. 

 

Heero’s lips quirked up in that goddamn smirk Solo had a serious love-hate relationship with, the one that said he was doing something stupid that Heero found adorable, which was probably good because Solo did a lot of stupid shit, and Heero had low standards for adorable.

 

“If you think you can take me, you’re welcome to try.”  It was that quiet self-assurance that both drove Solo to distraction and enticed him to stay.  It had attracted him in the first place.  Meeting Heero had been like… lightning to his system.  He’d spent so many years focused on one thing, to the exclusion of all else, he hadn’t had time for dating or love, or any of that froofy shit.  Until Heero had come along, sparking something he hadn’t even been sure he was capable of.  It had started off as unfriendly competition and progressed until they’d gone from trading barbs in the locker room to swapping body fluids at every available opportunity.

 

At the moment, though he was just pissing him off.

 

Solo was off the porch and planted in front of his wayward boyfriend and sometimes-partner before he was cognizant he’d taken the first step, Heero turning to meet him.  Standing toe to toe with the Japanese man, amused blue eyes met flashing grey, as Heero leaned against the frame in the open space between the door and the car interior, all relaxed nonchalance with his arms crossed. 

 

Pointing his finger in Heero’s face, he was all coiled tension and itching for a fight.  “Where.  Is.  My.  Brother?”

 

Making a show of checking his watch, the other man drawled, “Probably about halfway to Idaho by now, if I had to guess.”

 

“Idaho?!”  Solo couldn’t believe this.  He could not  _ fucking _ believe this.  What the fuck was in Idaho?  

 

“Well he bought a bus ticket to Idaho, but I doubt that was his final destination.”

 

And suddenly it was all breathing-stealing, earth-shatteringly clear, and if Solo had thought he was mad before, it was nothing compared to the absolute ground scorching fury that overtook him now.  “You-” he made an inarticulate sound of frustration- “you let my little brother go off after that… that… fucking…. Arghh!”  Of it’s own accord, his fist shot out, aiming for Heero’s face, who dodged it smoothly, grabbing his wrist and turning them both so that Solo was pinned up against the wedge created between the door and the frame.

 

He struggled, knowing the effort was useless, before slumping, wrists pinned with Heero’s arms wrapped around him.  “Solo.”  Blue eyes bored up into his from Heero’s slightly shorter height.  “He’s nearly thirty years old.  It’s his life.”

 

“Shyeah, but I don’t gotta like it,” he muttered, shrugging ineffectively.  He took a deep breath.  Released it.  He’d known, he’d  _ known _ when Duo had gone off with the tall, slender hitman, that his brother was a goner.  He’d always been stupid for a lost cause.  Look how long and how far he’d followed Solo, helping him search for something that was lost to him forever.  Had, in fact, helped him find it, but it hadn’t, as it turned out, been quite what he’d wanted or expected.

 

He figured he owed his brother this much at least.  He stuffed the anger and betrayal down deep, because he knew that wasn’t how Duo had intended it, knew that Duo didn’t really do goodbyes.

 

And anyway-

 

“At least he gave us the car!”  He squirmed in Heero’s arms again, for entirely different reasons.  “Gimme, gimme, I wanna drive.”

 

Heero snorted, grip firming.  “I  _ don’t _ think so,” he muttered, leaning forward to run his lips over Solo’s collarbone.  “The only stipulation he gave me was to promise to never, ever let you behind the wheel of this car.”  His teeth grazed down Solo’s neck, sending tingles straight to his groin.  “But…” he added, speculatively, sucking an earlobe into his mouth, worrying it with his teeth.

 

“But?” Solo croaked out, panting.

 

“I suppose he only meant don’t let you  _ drive _ the car.  I’m sure other activities would be acceptable.”

 

Honestly, fucking in the car Duo wouldn’t let him have so much as an icepack in was almost as appealing as driving it.  If nothing else, it was something he could tell him about in great detail the next time they saw each other.  He refused to consider the possibility that there wouldn’t be a next time.

 

“Yeah?  What kinda activities you have in mind?” 

 

He found himself maneuvered into the driver’s seat, the door shut behind them, straddling Heero’s lap, awkwardly wedged between a firm chest, which he didn’t mind, and a hard steering wheel in his back, which he did.  The hand under his shirt was doing a good job of distracting him, but not quite good enough. “Ah!” His shirt was bunched under his armpits and Heero’s mouth on his chest was an even better distraction, until he tried to shift.  “Heero?”

 

He got a mildly questioning hum in response.

 

“I can’t- dammit! I can’t really move here.”

 

“How is that a problem for me?”

 

Solo rolled his eyes just as teeth nipped at his left nipple.  He groaned.  “It will be, seein’ as how I’m on top here.”

 

Heero paused to consider that.  Apparently conceding the point, he fumbled under the seat, looking for the lever-

 

The seat slid back, faster than either of them had been prepared for, ending with a jerk that pressed their bodies together in a way that Solo wasn’t totally unhappy with.  Based on the telltale bulge in Heero’s pants, he wasn’t complaining either.  With his new and improved range of motion he reached down…

 

And grabbed the lever on the side of the seat, reclining the back abruptly.  Heero let out a muffled ‘oof’ as the seat hit its maximum recline.  Grinning down at him, Solo stripped his own shirt over his head, dropping it on the passenger side seat.  “That’s better.”  He stretched out over his boyfriend, their mouths meeting for the first time, all smooth lips and wet heat.  Solo felt the rough scrape of stubble on Heero’s face, a physical reminder of the fact that he’d been gone for too fucking long, babysitting, and not taking enough personal time.  Dragging his mouth across the stubbled jaw to apply his teeth to Heero’s ear, he inhaled the smell of skin and gunpowder, feeling satisfaction settle deep in his gut.  He shoved the other man’s t shirt up, trailing his mouth from ear to chest, feeling the rumbling groan of satisfaction more than he heard it.  Rocking forward, he was more than thankful for his thin pajama pants when Heero’s hands came up to grasp his hips, sneaking his fingers below the waistband to grasp his ass.  His bare ass.

 

There was a little pause, and then a chuckle.  “Did you forget your underwear?”

 

“Nope.  I haven’t done any laundry since you left.”

 

He smiled at the exasperated sigh, which was quickly transformed into an appreciative gasp as Solo worked the snap of Heero’s tactical pants open, hand diving inside to grasp hot, firm flesh.  He gave a few experimental pumps, all slow, firm pressure, before he shifted back, propping one foot on the floor of the footwell, and worked Heero’s pants down his thighs.  He took a moment to admire his handiwork.  Mussed hair, heavy lidded eyes, shirt shoved up to his neck, pants around his knees, cock curving proudly upward with moisture glistening at the tip, Heero was the very picture of debauchery.

 

It had been a real fuckin’ long twelve days.

 

Shimmying out of his own pants, Solo climbed back over him, knees pressing into the leather of the seat, his thigh wedged against the center console, as he settled himself on Heero’s lap again. He reached down, grasping their erections in one hand, and tugged, wrenching moans from both of them.  

 

“Oh fuck yes,” he panted, head resting on Heero’s shoulder as he did it again, other arm braced on the headrest.  “I can’t wait to have you inside me.”

 

There was a strange stillness from Heero, instead of the reaction he’d expected, and he levered himself up on his arm to look down at him.  “Not what you had in mind?” he questioned, giving another stroke.

 

Heero shuddered, eyelids fluttering, and shook his head.  “It’s not that.” He paused as Solo kept at his slow torture, drawing in a stuttering breath.  “I don’t have any lube.”

 

It was Solo’s turn to pause, thinking. He twisted, releasing himself and Heero, to rummage around in the dash, knowing Duo probably had something stashed that they could use. “Ah-ha!” He turned back, small tube in his hand, brandishing it triumphantly.  Heero eyed him skeptically.

 

“You want to use lip-balm as lube?”

 

“First of all, it’s just vaseline in a tube, it’ll work fine, and second of all, it’s by far not the worst thing we’ve ever tried to use.”  Heero couldn’t argue the point, he knew, because once they’d tried to use mint conditioner at a fancy hotel that had contained real, actual mint, and that had been an unmitigated disaster.  The lip balm wasn’t even scented.

 

When Heero pulled him down for a heated kiss, he decided to take it as acquiescence.  He passed Heero the tube, hitching himself up a little higher to be in easier reach.  He wasn’t disappointed, because it didn’t take long for calloused fingers to brush over him, teasing, before pressing one, firm and gentle, inside.  He groaned, sucking Heero’s lower lip into his mouth, felt the other man’s cock twitch against him in response.  He rolled his hips, first toward the probing digit, then forward, rubbing their cocks together, and Heero writhed underneath him.  He grinned against the other man’s mouth.

 

Of course, Heero retaliated by slipping another finger inside of him, probing-

 

“Oh, fuckin’ a!”

 

“I’m planning to,”  Heero returned, fingers brushing that spot again.

 

“Ah!  I can’t fuckin’ believe you-  **fuck!** \- you actually said that.  Jesus.  That was awful.”

 

He got a more purposeful press of fingers this time, and stars lit up behind his eyelids and he made a garbled sound.  

 

Heero chuckled.  “Doesn’t sound like it’s awful.”  

 

He worked a third finger in, and Solo groaned at the fullness and the slight burn.  Vaseline, after all, wasn’t super slippery compared to the stuff they kept by the bed, but it was tolerable.

 

In fact, after a few more seconds of Heero working his fingers in and out, it was past tolerable and soaring toward out-fucking-standing, and if he could’ve ridden Heero’s hand he would have.  “More,” he grunted, pressing backwards.  Unfortunately, between the angle and the space restrictions, there wasn’t a lot of more to be had from Heero’s hand.  He whined, arching against the other man more forcefully.

 

Heero only tortured him a few more moments, fingers spreading and rocking inside of him until he was babbling nonsense and panting, and then Heero scooted down, planting his feet more firmly in the footwell, and pulled his fingers out of Solo’s body, getting in one last twist of the wrist that caused him to cry out.  Half a second later, a hard cock was positioned where those fingers had been and Heero’s hands were on his hips, and he was looking up at Solo from underneath messy hair, heat in his eyes, pupils so wide there was practically no blue left.  He nudged, gently, and Solo sat up, bracing his arms on the roof of the car and pressed back-

 

“Fuck!”  It was Heero’s turn to curse as he was swallowed up by Solo’s body, inch by excruciating inch, and by the time he was seated all the way down, full of hot throbbing cock, they were both groaning, sweat beading on their skin.

 

Solo tossed his head, shaking damp blonde strands out of his face, as he lifted his hips, and then slipped back down, rocking as he did so.  Heero groaned, and Solo grinned, doing it again.  He shifted, slid up again, and down, searching for the right angle, until every thrust brushed him  _ just right _ and Heero was thrusting reflexively, hands tightening on his hips hard enough to bruise.

 

Letting his head fall back, he lost himself in the rhythm of it, ignoring the burn in his thighs, the creak of the leather, only cognizant of the motion of their bodies, slow burn building in his belly.

 

“Oh, fuck, babe, gone too long, feels so good…”

 

A warm, calloused hand wrapped around his erection and the languid pace he’d been enjoying evaporated.  Sitting forward again, dragging his eyes open, he looked down to watch Heero touching him as he rode him and the sight was probably going to be burned into his brain permanently, not that he ever got tired of it, and then Heero yanked him down for a kiss, nipping at his lips, out of patience with the teasing. 

 

Tugged forward on his knees, Solo braced himself on the headrest as Heero pulled back, then snapped forward-

 

“Oh my  **god** !” and the place that he’d just been brushing across, teasing himself with, was suddenly, fully involved and he could  _ feel _ Heero’s smug satisfaction but he didn’t even care, just holding on as the other man pounded into him, fingers tightening on his erection-

 

“I’m gonna come!” he gasped out, and a thumb brushed across the head of his cock, pressing at the sensitive spot on the underside, and he was done, bucking and shuddering, ecstasy so good it was almost agony shooting up his spine, Heero’s name falling from his lips.  Heero himself only managed a few more jerking thrusts before his hand clamped down on Solo’s hip and neck and he let out a long, low groan, as he came.

 

Solo collapsed on top of him, wheezing.  After a few minutes of catching his breath, sweat cooling on their bodies, he started snickering.

 

“That’s not exactly the sort of reaction I was expecting.”  But Heero sounded more amused than disgruntled.

 

Low standards for adorable, like usual.

 

“I was just thinking how fuckin’  _ pissed _ Duo’s gonna be when he finds out we fucked in his car.”

 

Heero’s chest vibrated with laughter underneath him.  “You’re planning to look for him just so you can tell him, aren’t you?”

 

“Well, that’s not the  _ only _ reason.”

 

Kid was his brother, after all. He’d looked for people less important to him than that, for a long time.  He’d find him.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Many, many thanks to TheManwell for always encouraging creativity and when I mentioned wanting to write this fic, absolutely being my biggest fan and enabler, and also for supplying me with her (vague) headcanon surrounding this pairing. I hope I've done it justice!
> 
> Thanks, as always, to ChronicWhimsy, for beta-reading absolutely everything, often in realtime.
> 
> This fic takes place immediately following chapter 9 of 'A Safe, Good Place' when Heero drops Duo off at the bus station to meet Trowa. I imagined that he went back to the bar for another drink and to kill some time to let Duo get well and truly gone before he went home to tell Solo, knowing he wasn't going to take it well. Which is why he arrives at midnight after dropping Duo off just after he has a last call dinner (so probably around 10?).
> 
> The car is Duo's 'Baby' from A Safe, Good Place. It's a 1971 Pontiac GTO. I decided it was blue with a black leather interior, but only because it suited me. I don't know if the seats from a '71 would have moved as much as I made them do in this fic, but go with it.
> 
> The vague story hints presented here are based on some possible sequel-ish things Manny may or may not be working on. I wanted to include them without giving the story away, so if you're interested, send Manny some love, maybe she will Write The Thing.
> 
> Solo's look is loosely based on what Manny mentioned to me, though I ended up with my own headcanon too.
> 
> Vaseline advanced healing lip balm could, technically, be used for lube, in a pinch, since it's 100% petroleum jelly.


End file.
